The Art of Travel

"We’re right on the edge of the Pacific ocean,” a voice from above tells us, “at 886 Cannery Row, in the Monterrey Bay Aquarium.”

An egg-yolk jellyfish moves around ghost-like - its bright yellow body luminescent against the blue light of the tank.
There is an absorbing peacefulness as we watch it bob in the seawater, the darkness around us focuses our eye 
Really though, we are at the edge of the Gallery of Modern Art One, in a grey and blustery Edinburgh, looking at Pulmo Marina - a video installation by Aurélien Froment.
We are just pretending to be in the Monterrey Bay Aquarium, in a sunny California on the other side of the world.
But art - like reading, like cooking - has the ability to transport us, to take us somewhere more exotic and more exciting, without leaving the room.
In a globalized world with cheap air travel, it’s relatively easy to jet off, soak up some sunshine and escape. Journeys that used to take days can now be done in a few hours and territories once closed off are open for business. 
This convenience though can mean we take for granted the experience - the things we see and the things we do.
Art, in its immediacy and edited down nature, asks us to concentrate more than we normally might, on say, the shape of a building or the way light falls across a stretch of water. 

We notice and appreciate the details. 

Art as a consequence can then help us preserve our own memories, spark recollections of other places. 

On level two of the gallery, recently acquired paintings by the Scottish colourist F.C.B Cadell illustrate a trip to Venice the artist made in 1910.

I visited the city myself for the first time in January 2012, when the canals glistened in the winter sun and shadows crept across crumbling plaster walls.

Art that resonates with us the most is often the kind that reminds us of our own experiences. So memories of my own trip are relived through Cadell’s depiction of his – the fluttering brushstrokes, the vivid colours and impressionistic essence of light. 

His use of perspective in one of the works (French windows framing a view of a hotel balcony and beyond) puts the viewer into the heart of the scene. 

An Aperol spritz in hand would add to the feeling nicely…

As these three little paintings serve to remind me of my own time in Venice, they can also, like Pulmo Marina offer a little bit of escapism.

There will always be times when you want, need, to be somewhere else - a change of scene and society, to feel real warmth of the sun. Art just won’t quite cut it.

Pretending though, can sometimes be enough.